Things Gone and Things Still Here (jette) wrote,
Things Gone and Things Still Here

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I just had one of those days where I woke up so happy that I couldn't believe there was any such thing as unhappiness - only to have it all go away by lunchtime.

Plus, my calf still really hurts from a bad muscle pull a week ago Sunday. I need someone to remind me to do the exercises that plasticrapping gave me for it to heal properly.

Still, my life is pretty rocking overall.

Going home, near the bus stop (my calf hurt too much to walk), there was a kid, seventeen or so, and a woman my age that must have been his mom, pushing her aging mini-van to the side of the street. I offered to help push or use of my phone to call Triple A, but they said they were fine. There were nearly ten other people at that bus stop, but not ONE of them made any overatures of assistance(they were already pushing up when I got to the stop). I kind of don't know what is wrong with people sometimes. They just stared at us and looked glum.

The mother and son looked so forlorn by these events; it was easy to suppose they were alone in the world and struggling financially. Of course, they may have a lovely family and plenty of dough - but she had that washed out and plain look of a woman whose been somewhat beat down by life. She was probably my age but looked ten years older.

I wonder why women do this to themselves, why they stop trying. An older lady with no sense of style makes me feel deeply sad in an existential dread kind of way.

Ironically, I woke up this morning happy because I realized that these days I fret less about my own appearance less than I ever have - I have a happy husband and home and an alright job - I felt realy secure.

That is until I looked in the mirror - I'm fighting off a cold and my eyes were all bloodshot and dark circle-y, I spent fifteen minutes at work using eye drops and reapplying my make-up.

Someday I will find that happy medium between not being insecure and totally letting myself go.

update: I just realized I left my pork tenderloin from Bryan's in the office fridge. Poop. Now I have to make grilled cheese sandwiches for the kids dinner. Which means I don't get any dinner, since I am allergic to cheese. Poop.
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